


Underworldly - G-man/Self-Insert Fiction

by lechechu



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hand & Finger Kink, Hands, Other, Self-Insert, gender-neutral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23626189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechechu/pseuds/lechechu
Summary: The government man can't say goodbye.
Relationships: G-man/Self-insert, Gman/Self-insert, Gman/selfinsert, g-man/original character, g-man/selfinsert, gman/original character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Underworldly - G-man/Self-Insert Fiction

Uncomfortable silence.

It was enough to make you stir within a darkened room, or rather a place unknown to man. A realm, a dimension - a location off the radar. Elongated stars floated past your vision, tired and weary. Trying to move your hands remained effortless, tied, bound to a chair. Kidnapped, perhaps. Held against your will. You tried to call out, only for your words to be silenced upon the sound that drifted into auditory. 

Oxfords, echoing within that darkness. Illuminated eyes stared back within that darkness, at first assumption to be the trick of the light. But as they moved, no trick came to play. They were real - staring intensely blue, a burning desire. 

“... Where am I?”

“ **_Ignorance is bliss. It benefits no one to learn that information._ ** ” The voice play, breathy and smooth, gone without a hitch. You shifted within that chair, watching the sharply dressed man to approach in dim light, eyes now a deep blue, and held no deeper meaning behind them. Unless, that too was a play.

“... What do you want?”

“ **_To… commend you, hm… for making it this far. Perhaps I’ve been a little… standoff-ish, since our last meeting. Particularly too long of awaited reunion._ ** ” Lightly curling his fingers, his hands remained hovered out in front of his abdomen, steps echoing as he began to circle you - his voice following suit within that reverb. It was hard to follow him, the bureaucratic man disappearing just out of your peripheral.

He had gone, and did not return to your vision upon the other side. Instead, his fingers ghosted your left shoulder, almost mistakened a piece of fiber or perhaps a gentle spider to announce it’s presence. It wasn’t until the pressure had densed, and the fingers could be pronounced with ease. Shivers rocked up your spine, arching your back upon the realization that such a man - or non-man - lingered behind you. You let out a breath of slight fear, curiosity, but something  _ deeper _ . 

Interest.

Those fingers flexed with gentle intent, slowly slipping their way down to your clavicle before you ceased those interested thoughts. Just what he had planned for you, uncertain. Yet there was no malicious intent that crossed the mind. Your own fingers vibrated - the veins in your wrists somehow able to feel the pulse of your heart alone without assistance. A heart attack, maybe - but hardly any of the fatal symptoms.  
  


“ **_Frightened, are you?_ ** ”

“N… No.”

“ **_Then must you tense?_ ** ” His other hand placed upon your shoulder - again, with no ill intent, fingers just above your clavicle. 

“... Look, I just don’t know what you’re doing. And why I’m strapped to a fucking chair.” Soon, breath left your lungs at a quick pace, as the government man’s left hand went to your throat, with little force, but rather to make a point. Index finger pressed against your jaw, and thumb caressing the jugular. A sign of dominance - he leaned close to the lobe of your left ear.

“ **_Language. There’s no need to get… displeased._ ** ” He whispered, tone holding no agitation, but rather disappointment. Fingers lightly caressed the skin of your neck as he released you from the hold, leaving the tickled shiver to run through your body in a quick, electrical impulse. You flinched, but only out of unconsciousness to what had transpired just moments ago. The same kind of shiver to expect when hearing a fork on a plate, or nails on a chalkboard - yet not necessarily unpleasant.

His hands didn’t return to your shoulders, and instead the bureaucratic man circled you once more, causing your eyesight to follow his stride; primp and proper. A respectful nature, despite feeling disrespected. In a way, that ghostly touch lingered upon your shoulders, a part of you wondered if the man had disassociated to play with you once more. 

He stood in front of you, staring you down like some sort of subject, as if for examination. The sprout of anxiety caused your eyesight to break from his, only to slowly peek back to his hands, that folded together with intricacy. You couldn’t find it in yourself to gaze back at his face, so his hands would have to do. However, that alone seemed to spark more curiosity than originally planned. 

His fingers fumbled some, a trait more expected to be of nervousness rather than the poised posture he gave off. You opened your mouth, however closed it with haste - like a trick of the eye. What was he so nervous about? Had his employers mentioned something to him? Were they going to punish him for bringing you up in a nonsensical way? Why were you here in the first place?

“... You’re nervous.” You got brave, finally opening your mouth as your eyes slowly drifted up to those dim eyes that stared back. You curled your fingers, watching the bureaucrat slowly shift his tie to a better placement. A twitch, perhaps - a need to speak truth. No expectation of truth would come across your mind however - he was as mysterious as the day he showed himself to you.

“... Can you tell me why?”  
  


“ **_... I’m afraid our meetings must come to an end._ ** ”

“... Then why did you tie me up and not tell me that in the first place? Do you intend to keep me here?” Silence befell that forgotten realm, elongated stars still drifting on by, like the fingers that previously ghosted your shoulders. His hands remained folded, uncertain and gentle. Hands that seemingly wouldn’t hurt a fly. A gentleness that was previously unidentified with a being like him. 

What made the change?

“ **_My eh-eh-eh-employers don’t see reason to do so. Unnecessary, in regards to your… relevance, to the tasks at hand._ ** ”

“But you have a reason, don’t you?” Again, silence filled the air. No intention to answer such a question, upon the grounds that certain others would hear. You gave a heavy sigh, lightly clenching your fingers into fists, almost in combat with the wires that kept you restrained to that chair.

“Untie me.” You spoke, and soon those wires unraveled themselves, vague voices whispering in that perpetual darkness. No silhouettes were amongst them, yet their presence was known. As you stood from the chair, it’s existence withered away, just as a figment of previous imagination. You approached the taller man, slowly, no intent to spook the other - even if one such as he could  _ ever  _ be spooked.

Unconscious intent took over, as you wrapped your arms around the other’s middle, head pressed against his chest. Uncharacteristic, underworldly distinction. He stiffened, yet made no difference to his original posture. You felt his hand set atop of your head - caressing with the same gentle intent of those ghostly fingers. 

“... I’ll miss you.”

“ **_... I will not entirely be gone from your view. Should you have the need to see me, I shall be there. A mere glance should… suffice._ ** ” The bureaucrat’s voice rumbled deep within as you pressed your ear to the other’s chest, your eyes closing with the echo. As you opened them, all that remained was the perpetual darkness of your room, as you had gathered your pillow into your arms during the night’s rest.

You sat up, quietly, still embracing that pillow in hopes for a sign that the man would keep his word. A sign of him, a mere glance like he had spoken about. You lingered there, as a full minute passed of silence, or rather the ambiance of it. Slowly, you pressed yourself back into the mattress you laid upon to your dismay of the lack of remembrance. Was it only but a dream?   
  


You curled some, attempting to drift back into that sleep from which you came, to feel the embrace of the other. And that embrace  _ did come _ \- but not of any dream. You felt his hand settle upon your head once more, the presence behind you defined as any clear day. You didn’t dare to gaze back at him, in slight apprehension that his presence would no longer be available.

He petted your head, fingers lightly following the curve with the same delicate intent he had shown you time and time again. A smile began to crawl along your lips, as you embraced your pillow tighter, pressing your back against the bureaucrat’s front. A solid form - it was no dream. 

It was something unworldly.


End file.
